The old Tokyo Convention Center, across the street from Sarue-onshi Park on downtown's eastside, is a relic of its time. While the infamous Tokyo Big Sight only a few miles from the civic center in the city's waterfront complex had long since replaced it as the premiere convention facility in the metro area, it has resisted calls for demolishment over the years and managed to keep a lean but consistent event schedule year by year, hosting parties and fundraisers and small-time expos now and again. The Tokyo Convention Center, an Allied-funded redevelopment project finished in the late 1960s, is an unusual mish-mash of traditional brick and mortar construction for the exhibit halls and corridor spaces which countered with the modernist (now retro) steel and concrete face for the front entries and lobbies, complete with twinkling chandeliers, palm trees and potato vine bushes with plush dining tables for the underground food court concourse. Twin steel land bridges crossed the Yokojikken River to the adjacent Sarue-onshi Park, accented with thick trees and tranquil gardens, a favorite photoshoot spot for weddings and cosplayers. While the multi-story convention center, complete with an interior lagoon plaza and connecting independent hotel tower, is nearly a third the size of Big Sight (about 800 thousand square foot against 2.6 million), its low rental rates for venues and dedicated dining options kept its edge in the industry, managing to stave off calls for replacement. The lobby of the center had recently received a moderate renovation only a few years ago, widening the silver-polished arches and allowing more natural light into the spaces, giving it an almost cathedral-like quality.

Sayori Asoka couldn't help but grin as she strutted through the dealers hall one last time, with its massive open-air ceiling and colorful banners hanging from the panel room balconies. Hundreds upon hundreds of attendees were swirling across the floor, with the center of the booths pushed back and opened up into a makeshift plaza, a break from the traffic of people passing by the endless rows and rows and stands. She was in her element; her makeup was on point, her cosplay (Ochaco Uraraka of the My Hero series) was immaculate and she had already gotten a billion asks for photos with attendees. The convention was beginning to wind down, and the dealers hall/artist alley were beginning to close up for the day with vendors draping white sheets over their booths and packing up their containers. Sayori knew better than to blow all her money on the first day; the best merch buys and haggling were always done on a Sunday when vendors were eager to unload anything they could no matter the profit turn. She had indulged in some keychains and posters, but the big ticket items would have to be bought last.

"Oh my goooosh!", a younger girl cooed at Sayori, putting her hands on her face and practically bouncing toward her wearing a slightly frizzy Kagamine Rin wig and cosplay hoodie. Her slightly tired-around-the-eyes plain-dressed mother followed behind her, carrying a collectors bag stuffed with convention buys and other goodies. While the daughter had the expression of 'Does this day have to end?', her mother had the look of 'Can we go home already?'

"You look so great! Can I get a phoootooo?" the vocaloid fan grinned, already pulling out her phone.

Sayori just laughed, tucking a part of her real hair back under the net. "Sure!" She crouched down slightly to be at eye level with the girl and put her hands together, her fingertips touching. The girl thanked her for the photo and joined back with her mom, mingling in with the rest of the departing convention crowd, the security guards already beckoning people and reminding them of the expo halls hours.

"Wow." Yoshi Tadashi said, coming up behind her from the bathroom in Deku's Gamma Suit. "It's like I'm dating a school idol."

"I know, right? So, what do you wanna do now?" Sayori said, pulling out a makeup mirror from her pocket and checking her eyelashes. These were new, she had never worn them before, but she couldn't help but feel they were just a bit too loose on her, sticking together when she blinked.

"I'm starving. We haven't eaten anything since two o'clock."

"Ooohh, right! Well, let's go check out the food court. And I can change into my shoes finally." She winced as she leaned over to rub her feet through the rubber cosplay boots. She should've worn double socks, these things were murder when you didn't have time to break them in.

The pair held hands as they exited the dealers hall, entering the main lobby down the escalators into the concourse. Outside the storm from earlier could be seen out the arching windows as it swirled in the sky, big moody gray clouds stirring around and threatening to dump more rain from earlier. The darkness only amplified the glow of the lights in the spaces as they entered underground. The center had a brighter but more constricted feeling as people avoided going outside, crowding around the public atriums. Sayori and Yoshi followed the herd into the food court spread, which had numerous options including local restaurants and larger chains circling around a series of waterfalls descending from several levels into the lagoon.

Yoshi grunted as a neckbeard shuffled past him, brushing him on the shoulder. He dusted himself off, fixing his collar. "Let's try to find a place to sit, Sayori. I want to look at the schedule."

Walking backwards she turned to face Yoshi. "Yeah, the karaoke is open till midnight according to the badge. That's in the Hilton, I think." Sayori pointed up at the glass atrium going down the length of the corridor, the looming glass 25-story obelisk hotel rising through the skylights. She turned back to front as she pointed up. "Third floor."

"I wanted to see about that Cosplay Chess panel," he said as he fumbled with his lanyard, reading the hours printed on the back of the badge. "I heard it's-"

Sayori's phone rang, interrupting his train of thought. She dug for it and saw it was a group call, started by Kazuma. "Oooh, hey!", she tugged on Yoshi's shoulder. "Kazuma's calling!" She answered it and turned on the camera, smiling and flashing a peace sign. Yoshi tilted his glasses down and waved, too. "Kazumaaah! Heeeey!"

"Hey, Sayori."

The first thing she noticed was Kazuma was driving, his phone hooked up to the plastic holder on his dashboard. He looked...manic. He was wearing a tuxedo, his black hair flipped over haphazardly, and he looked like he was standing out in the rain for a minute before getting behind the wheel. The others in the call, Monika and Yuri, were at home somewhere, Monika laying in bed and Yuri probably at that bookstore she always went to. Natsuki wasn't answering.

"I uh…", Kazuma coughed. "Listen, guys. I'm so so sorry to do this, but something happened."

"What is it?", Sayori asked, angling for an empty table near the fried chicken spot. No seats looked available, but everything smelled good at least. At the last moment, a couple cleared their trash and got up to leave. Sayori tugged Yoshi forward and got the chairs just as a larger group, a literal school idol band, noticed it at the same time they did. The leader of the group soured her expression at Sayori before turning away. You snooze, you lose. The pair sat down with their bags, Sayori leaning forward to dig for her sneakers.

Natsuki's call answered to a black screen.

"Oh my God," Kazuma gasped. "Nats." His voice was tense, fragile.

Natsuki coughed, her voice muffled. "K-Kazuma."

"Yes baby."

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes I can."

Yoshi was looking down at her phone now, hearing the conversation. His eyes darted around and he mouthed to Sayori, 'What's going on?'

She mouthed back, turning up her volume to hear better. 'I don't know.'

Natsuki cut in, "I have a knife. I'm bleeding."

Sayori gasped, her eyes widening. She practically leapt out of her seat and gripped her phone harder, holding it up to her ear and down to her mouth. "What? What? Who attacked you, Natsuki?"

Natsuki said, "Have you called the police?". On his camera I could see Kazuma turning a sharp corner on some street, "No. I'm driving to you."

"Kazuma, call the police. I will be fine."

The call began to argue and overlap each other. Sayori began to alternate between looking up at the crowd around her, their voices and jaunts growing louder in the confusion of the call, and back down at her screen. "I'm about to–" "The police? What's going–" "Are you okay Natsuk–" "Where are you–"

Kazuma's voice rang out above the rest. "Natsuki, I'm racing as fast as I can to you. We're calling the police right now."

"Tell them he beat the fuck out of me and he said he's going to kill me. I'm upstairs. I unlocked the front door. Please hurry."

"Oh my God!" Yuri exclaimed, her voice rising.

Sayori was shrilling, "Natsuki, where are you?"

"I have to go. I know what's going to happen. Please hurry."

Sayori clutched her chest, feeling her heartbeat rocket and her eyes spin. Yoshi gripped her arm and had her sit back down on the chair, nearly losing her balance. An intense white hot heat rose to her face.

She could hear Monika shout, "What the fuck is going on?"

The crying.

The fear.

The rope.

It all came crashing back in her. She could feel it.

She was having a panic attack.

"Hhhh...th...God...", she gasped, her fingers digging into her scalp, shifting her wig off-center. The wig slipped off her head and dropped to the floor, showing her natural coral-pink hair and black net underneath. Her other hand loosely dropped her phone, slipping from her grip.

Then she slumped off the chair to the floor. Yoshi grabbed her at the last second to stop her from hitting the tile.

"Hey, someone get me some help! HEY!"

...

"State your name for the record."

"Natsuki Abilene Tamura."

"Abilene?"

"That is correct."

"What is that, Abilene?"

"It's a city in the United States, Texas. It is Biblical in origin, it means 'meadow' or 'stream'. My father chose it."

"Spell it."

"A-B-I-L...E-N-E."

"Okay."

"I never use it except on official documents."

"I see."

The interrogation room was almost the same as the cell she was previously sleeping in, except a scratched up metal table sat in the center, with two chairs on one side facing another on the other. A tiny plastic white camera sat in the corner, fixed on the table. A plexiglass window looked out into a drab hallway, in some unknown part of the police station. There were two officers in the room with her, a baby-faced brown-haired one fresh from the academy joined by a burlier older one with thick-gray hair (more than Fathers) combed back into a pompadour, probably to hide some sort of bald spot (also like Fathers).

The younger officer said, "So you go by Natsuki, correct?"

"Yes."

"Alright, just want to clarify. And you are...an active student of Yamaku High School?"

"A third year, yes, due to graduate next year."

"And what is your relationship to a Mr. Kazuma Odaka?"

"He is my boyfriend of almost eight months. We met at our school's literature club, a mutual friend introduced us."

"I see. And why was he involved in what happened tonight?"

"Where is my lawyer?"

The younger officer, the same who carried in the elderly drunk's bags from earlier, did not reply for a moment, simply scribbled indescript writings on his form as if he did not hear her. Natsuki paused for a beat then cleared her throat, a tinge agitated.

"Excuse me, I would like an attorney present before I answer any more questions."

"That is not necessary, Natsuki."

"Says you. I want legal counsel before I incriminate myself."

The younger officer looked confused. "You have not been charged with a crime, why do you fear incrimination?"

"Was that my question?", she snapped. "Am I being detained?"

"You are not entitled to a lawyer when under the custody of the police."

"Then why am I here?"

The older officer finally piped up, "Because you murdered your father."

"Excuse me?"

The older officer stood up from his chair and leaned over the table, not uncomfortably close but still in her space. "You are soaked in your fathers blood. Your fingerprints are all over the frame of this," he pulled out a strip of fresh photos from a manilla folder on the table, tapping one, "a Franchi SPAS-12 military-grade combat shotgun, which ceased manufacturing in the year 2000 and is illegal in this country under the Swords and Firearms Protection Law of 1958. Are you aware of these facts?"

Natsuki grabbed the photo and stared at it once, twice. It was the gun she used (she didn't know the name until the officer mentioned it) laying in the hallway of her house, bloody fingerprints visible. She flipped the photo on its side with her wrist, then flipped it on its back. She could feel the sticky warmth of the photo, hot off the printer.

"No."

"Which part confuses you?"

"The part where someone defending herself from her intoxicated abusive father is a crime."

"Self defense is only a natural reaction. What isn't natural is the method of doing so."

The older officer, his shining silver name tag reading HAMADA, put his hands behind his back and began a strut around the table.

"How did you come to acquire this weapon of war, Miss Abilene?"

"My name is Natsuki. You will call me Natsuki. And the rifle belonged to my father."

"How would you know, Natsuki?" Hamada rephrased.

"Because do I look like a deranged fucking gun-toting lunatic to you, shooting off rounds at anything that moves?" She leaned forward in her chair and gestured to herself. "Do I?"

Hamada continued, "You are soaked in your fathers blood-"

She swiped her hands across herself and pointed at the two men, "-Absolutely beside the point! If my father matters so goddamn much to you people, why are you not asking me questions about him!"

The older officer jumped forward and slapped the metal table with his hands, his jaw clenching. "Because we are cleaning bits of his brain from your living room!" He grabbed the photos and tossed them at her, spreading them across the table. "And you WILL tell us how this happened!"

Natsuki's face scowled, and she hissed, "I don't have to tell you ssshit."

The older officer reared his arm back and slapped her with his open palm. Natsuki coiled back in pain, still sore from the bruises during the fight earlier, but held firm in her seat. Tears threatened her eyes, but she stayed still in her seat, only clutching her raw red cheek and dropping her gaze.

"You are in the CUSTODY of the NATIONAL POLICE AGENCY, young lady," he growled, "bound by the justice and order of my great nation!", the old officer was shouting now, towering over her. "You WILL obey and you WILL answer our questions or face the FULL punishment of the law!"

Natsuki was silent.

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR TO YOU, BRAT!?"

Natsuki meekly raised her head up in submission, clutching her mouth. "Y-yes sir."

Officer Hamada, enraged at her resilience, turned on his heel and stomped out. He glanced at his inferior officer, staring wide eyed at his sudden outburst. "Continue the questioning." Then before he left the room, Natsuki heard him mutter, "Disgrace."

And slammed the door shut.

Natsuki coughed, sniffling, dropping her head back down. "Wh-where is my boyfriend? I want to speak to him again."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but...", the young officer trailed off, glancing up at the camera in front of him, then back down at her. "I don't know what he said to you in that cell, but he's looking for the door. He signed a paper waiving his involvement in your investigation, I don't know if he told you that, but...it means he doesn't have to testify for you. It happens a lot with young boyfriends, trust me, I don't know how many times I've seen cases like this being brought in here."

Natsuki was silent.

"So, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened here tonight. Rather, something else we found at the scene of, er, your father's death. Is that alright with you, Miss Tamura?"

Hidden from the baby-faced man of the law's sight, a small smile spread across her face.

Then, lifting her head up to meet the cadets, a sincere grin spread across Natsuki's fanged expression.

"Sure. What would you like to know?"